A Chance to Change the World
by ilovetvalot
Summary: Penelope Garcia mourns her idol, Steve Jobs, in a very unique way.


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**A Chance to Change the World**

Settling the black lace veil over her face as she grabbed her bright blue vintage Pan Am bag off her desk, Penelope Garcia straightened her spine, her mouth set in a grim line.

Locking her office door behind her, she strode through the mostly empty corridors of the Federal Building. Coming in early had meant the perfect opportunity to catch her quarry off guard. She'd learned long ago to use the element of surprise to her advantage when blackmailing...or, erhmmm, soliciting her mostly wonderful friend into cooperating with one of her unscheduled plans.

Eyes narrowing behind her mask of mourning, Penelope's gaze found him easily. He, too, was a proponent of the theory that the early bird captured the proverbial worm. Or in her case, a road trip buddy. Tightening her fingers around her peace offering, she pasted on her most convincing smile as she peeled back the onyx lace shroud hiding her face.

"Well, hello there, Dr. Dreamboat," Penelope cheerfully greeted Spencer Reid as she approached him.

Lifting his head as he heard Garcia's familiar chipper voice float through the air, Spencer's eyes widened as he spotted the enthusiastic technical analyst. Dressed from the top of her head to the tips of her toes in black, his eyes widened. "I...uhmmmm...hey, Pen," he said uncertainly. Unsure what had brought about her fashion transformation, he tilted his head. "What brings you up her first thing in the morning?" he asked carefully, well aware that the change in appearance usually meant changes in other areas of their well ordered lives.

"Weeeeellllll, first I brought you a little gift," she said, extending the steaming cup of double mocha cappuccino toward the suspicious man in front of her. "I want you to know I had the little barista drop an extra dollop of love in there this morning," she revealed as she winked.

Surprised, Reid reached out to relieve her of the tall cup. "I...thank you," he said gratefully, the chocolate aroma already making his mouth water.

"You're welcome," Pen said brightly, hitching her bag up on her shoulder. "That's what friends do," she explained, leaning one hip against Emily's still empty desk. "Little unexpected favors for their favorite people. Don't you agree?"

Oh, he smelled a trap, Reid thought a little desperately even as he raised the caffeine laden brew to his lips. Taking a cautious sip, Spencer slowly nodded. "Of course," he murmured when he had swallowed the sweet concoction in a cup.

"I'm so glad to hear that," Pen trilled as she smiled.

Now, he knew he was being set up for something. He didn't know what, exactly. But, it was big if the way she eyed him was any indication. Really big. "So," he said, clearing his throat while she looked at him expectantly. "Do I need to ask why you are dressed in black? It's not exactly a color that normally makes your color pinwheel."

"Now, there's my astute profiling pal." Garcia winked, patting the curious man on the cheek. "As a matter of fact, it isn't. Black is depressing, but then, so is this day," she informed him morosely, her shoulders slumping slightly.

"Pardon?" Reid asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

Blinking as she stared at the man, Garcia replied, "Why, you do know that we have lost one of the most innovative icons of the technological age? A guru of almost god-like capacity?"

"I...," Reid floundered.

"Steven Jobs revolutionized the modern world. Without him, we'd all still be writing letters and memos and using the United States Postal Service," she declared passionately, her eyes widening vehemently. "There'd be no such thing as a paperless transaction!"

"But I miss paper," Reid mumbled, his free hand reaching out to touch a form on his desk. "And letters." In his humble opinion, the masses had become entirely too dependent on their handheld devices.

Raising one eyebrow, Penelope merely glared at him.

Obviously his love of paper was not exactly kosher with his current company. "You're right, he's was a visionary," Reid hastily said as he nodded obediently. "Absolutely."

Penelope smiled sweetly, the peace offering obviously received. "Glad you agree, Peaches. Because I need a favor."

Oh, here it comes, Reid thought grimly as his shoulders tensed.

"I need you to come on a field trip with me today. I've already cleared our time off with the Boss Man," she quickly explained, nodding toward Hotch's still darkened office. "All you need to do is grab your go bag and hitch your cart to my horse," she explained breezily as she grinned.

Eyes narrowing, Reid automatically shook his head. "Penelope, I've got a lot of..."

"Listen, my gifted genius, this afternoon MIT is holding a memorial service for my personal paragon, Mr. Steven Jobs. I intend to be there! The great and powerful Woz, Steve Wozniak, is giving the eulogy, Reid. This is my Graceland! The mother ship is calling for me. I must go," she insisted vehemently.

"To Cambridge?" Reid yelped, his eyes widening. "You'll never make it," he said, glancing at his watch.

"I will when we hop a plane to Philly and catch the train to Boston. Trust me, I've tracked those timetables. Plenty of time," Pen said, waving a hand through the air.

"No, Pen," Reid said, frantically shaking his sandy head. "Absolutely not. I didn't even have an email account until you forced me to start carrying this thing around," he said, waving his iPad in the air.

"Which you have our hardworking late pioneering paper-killer to thank for," Pen asserted as she nodded. "This can be your way of saying thank you, Luddite."

"I'm not sure I'm as appreciative as you seem to think I am," Reid stuttered, his cheeks reddening. "I mean, I agree that it's a very sad loss. And you have my condolences, but..."

"Listen up, my supremely gifted friend, everybody else is spoken for today," Penelope replied sharply, cutting him off with a snap of her fingers. "You are the only one I know can afford to blow this popsicle stand today and take a pilgrimage to MIT and pay homage to one of the greatest thinkers of our time."

"Does it even matter that I wouldn't recognize an Apple if it fell out of the tree and hit me in the head?" Reid asked desperately, his mind willing for someone to appear...to save him from the ferocity burning within Penelope Garcia. The woman made for a terrifying foe.

"Troglodyte," Garcia sniffed, shuddering a little as she issued the insult. "The man saved the world from boring sugar water and gave us the finest wine in the land! How can you even think of missing an opportunity to memorialize his cutting-edge contributions?"

Running a hand down his face, Reid took a step back. "Pen, don't you remember the last field trip you took me on? It was that Star Trek convention two years ago. I started a bar fight because I misinterpreted a Klingon! You don't want a funeral free for all because I get information for Apple and Microsoft confused!"

"Bite your tongue," Penelope hissed, her eyes flashing dangerously. "That's sacrilege. And so was misquoting Warf to a pub full of role players," she added irritably, her eyes narrowing as she remembering that particularly disturbing incident.

"Sorry, the clicks and clacks are very hard to imitate," Reid returned defensively, tightening his grip around the coffee cup again, "but, I think you catch my drift here, Garcia. My presence at this sacred event could potentially produce mass panic. You don't want that on your conscience."

"Look, Short Round," Penelope said, grabbing Reid's go bag from the side of his desk and tossing it over his thin arm, "It's either me and the Great Woz, or, if you truly prefer, Strauss and the sexual harassment seminar that she has on her agenda for you. One way or another, you're going to be very uncomfortable today. If I were you, I'd choose wisely or you're likely to end up on the DragonLady's hit list again."

"I hardly think using Mr. Jobs death as an excuse to escape training hell is something he'd see as acceptable," Reid mumbled darkly, his footsteps dragging as she steadfastly pulled him toward the elevator.

"Nah, Stevie would think this was very enlightened of you, my little worrywart," Penelope grinned, jabbing the down button on the elevator. "He was very zen. Who knows, buttercup? You might come back a changed man!"

And as Spencer Reid followed Garcia reluctantly on the elevator, he wondered if Mr. Jobs had ever been unfortunate enough to meet Penelope Garcia. She might have changed that man's whole outlook on life.

She certainly had affected his.

_**Finis**_

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